A Really Good Reason To Never Again Laugh At The Follies Of My Friend

This Crazy Friend of mine was allowed to travel. You should check it out. The posts make for some great entertainment. And those little gems...all in a week, people. She's a regular riot.

I may have laughed a bit hard and harassed a bit much, though.

As if this incident weren't enough, I ventured out in the truck again today. While the kids slept in the nice air conditioned house, I gathered up my calendar (the hub of my sanity and keeper of my To Do List) and set out for a few quick errands.

Bookstore, check. Pharmacy, check. With the big things behind me, I headed off to the gas station to fill up the truck. I pulled up to the pump, switched off the ignition, then tossed the keys in the general direction of the seat as I jumped out and pumped some gas.

Being the graceful swan that I am, I tripped as I was getting back into the truck. In an effort to save my face from smashing into something, I grabbed at the steering wheel of the truck to steady myself. As my weight pitched forward, I felt the steering wheel lock up.

I remember the first time that ever happened to me. I was sixteen and at my Great Granddaddy's house and had been running some errands for him. When I got into my car to leave, I found the steering wheel had locked into position. Being afraid to hurt the car, I slipped back inside to interrupt the conversation my Granddaddy was having. The other gentleman was kind enough to come out and 'fix' my car. With a grunt and a jerk, the wheel was loosed, and I was good to go.

This car is remarkably similar to my own Tank. Mine was better, though. ;-)

Since then, I have had loads of practice in such situations. Today, however, I put the key into the ignition and tried to unlock the wheel, but nothing happened. In fact, I couldn't get the ignition to turn. I was trying to turn, but the entire mechanism was stuck.

I did what any Distressed Damsel would do at that point...I picked up my cell phone and called my Knight. He gave me a list of things to do, all of which I had already tried, then apologized and said he was an hour away and couldn't trouble shoot any more that what he had already done. Call the mechanic, honey.

And so I did. We went through the same song and dance to no avail. That wheel wasn't budging. The key wasn't turning. Nadda. Zilch. Nothing. Kaput.

While all of this is going on, I made apologies to the different people who pulled up behind me at the pump. 'Sorry ya'll, my truck is broke down.' Several gentlemen valiantly tried to 'help out the little lady', but left with shakes of their heads and apologies.

I also called my mother-in-law, who was home with the kids. Thankfully, all was going well there.

The decision was finally made to call for a tow truck. I ached to have Thomas with me, given his singular obsession with our situation just last week! When the truck arrived, I was awed as they situated it onto the flatbed and I wished with all my might that Thomas could be there. He would have been in Little Boy Bliss.

I even got to ride in the tow truck!!! Oh, my Thomas! I was thinking about you the whole way.

We arrived at the garage where the truck was unloaded. I stepped inside to officially lodge my complaint with the truck to the lady at the desk. The owner came through and told me it would be Thursday or even Friday before he could get to it. I didn't care so much as to the whens, since this is not a primary vehicle, just so long as it was taken care of.

I reached down to grab my keys out of my purse and hand them over. As I started to take the key off the keyring, I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks. I glanced up to see if anyone was reading my thoughts, mumbled something about needing to get something out of the truck, and made a quick exit.

I got back out to the truck and upended my purse, pawing trough the chap sticks and assorted receipts. Not there. I started looking under and around the driver's seat, and finally, I saw it. A glimmer of silver.

The keys to the truck.

What? The keys to the truck, you ask?

My head was playing back the mental video footage from the gas station. My mind's eye saw the keys being tossed onto the seat as I got out of the truck. I overshot, and the keys fell between the seat and the console. When I got back into the truck, I reached out for my familiar key ring, not really thinking about the fact that the truck called for a different key ring.

Yes. Yes. Yes. There it was. The problem was never the truck. Two hours, a lot of phone calls, several would be Good Samaritans, and a tow truck later, I realized my folly. I had been trying to start the truck with the van keys.

And there you have it. LL, I solemnly swear to make no more witty remarks about your, um, lapses.

Or at least the plane ticket lapse...